


Blessied Rain

by 630Kame (Kame630)



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Can be read as roomantic or platonic, Established Relationship, Friendship, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Platonic Relationships, Reminiscing, Talk of old times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-11 13:14:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19538581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kame630/pseuds/630Kame
Summary: Two friends reminisce about the very first fall of rain, and why an Angel had automatically reached out a wing to sheild a Demon





	Blessied Rain

"So. Why _did_ you 'take me under your wing' back at the garden?" Crowley asked, enjoying one of their rather casual late night chats, now they didn't need to hide, or in Aziraphale's case deny, their friendship any longer.

"Oh please, do you have to go that far back?" Their reminiscing over old times was something Aziraphale was rather enjoying, but there was a slight inflection to the angels voice that made Crowley's eyebrow inch up in curiosity. He'd been expecting a simple 'because it seemed like the right thing to do' or 'do unto others' or some other angelic cliché that Aziraphale was known to spout off. He hadn't, however, been expecting there to be a deeper meaning behind it, or something that the Angel didn't want to admit. 

"So there more to it then just being too nice for your own good then?" Crowley was very intrigued now, taking another sip of his drink and leaning forward in his seat. The evening had been nothing but casual, talk of old times and how they were free for the first time in their lives to do as they pleased.

"Well. I feel rather foolish about it now." Aziraphale admitted, his face turning slightly pink, trying to hide behind his wine glass. They hadn't been drinking long enough for it to affect him though, so he couldn't blame the alcohol for his verbal fumbling and flushed cheeks. "What with how much rain we get nowadays." It was true. England always seemed to have rain, even if the weather forecast was clear, especially if it was supposed to be clear actually, it was like the weatherman did it out of spite.

When Crowley didn't say anything else, just sat there expectedly with that grin and raised eyebrow that said that he wasn't backing down from this one, and given that he was nowhere near even tipsy, Aziraphale know he would stubbornly refuse to move from the subject.

With a defeated sigh the angel shifted in his seat, looking down at his wine glass. "God never consulted us on things that were new, we knew we had to protect the garden, and the people of course. But rain….." Aziraphale shrugged, not really sure on how else to go about explaining this. "Well. The only water I knew of at the time, was holy water. And you were a demons so I thought…."

The demons face broke into a bigger grin for a second, about to tease the angel for not realising that rain was just water. But then the words caught up to him and his face fell into one of sudden understanding. The angel hadn't been just being kind to shelter him, he had been attempting to save him from being destroyed.

"But….Why?" They weren't friends back then. If anything Aziraphale should have hated him. The demons was the serpent who tempted the humans, and the Angel had been the one who failed to stop him, then felt so guilty that he gave away his sword so they could protect themselves. He had no reason to try to spare a demon who had potentially gotten him into big trouble with heaven. The demon hadn't known what rain was either at the time in all honesty, but he's not sure it occurred to him that it could have been dangerous.

"It didn't seem fair." Aziraphale looked up now, not as embarrassed and more pensive about the situation. "I mean… what if you were right and I was wrong? Six thousand years later and I still can't work it out." And he'd given it a lot of thought over the years. Without Crowley, or Crawley as he was back then, the world would not be as it was today. "But if you  _ were _ right, then it wasn't fair to let you burn."

"So, you took pity on me?" Crowley sneered slightly. He didn't know how else to react. He wanted to thank the angel, because the fact that he had tried to protect him, after only meeting briefly and knowing what he was. Well that was a little too much for Crowly to take in, so he let the demon in him react with anger and offence, because those were the things that came more naturally to him. If he was honest, they came up as a defence mechanism, trying to hide the fact that he truly felt honored that he had met and become friends with this angel, not knowing what he had potentially tried to do for him.

"I'd hardly call it pity!" Aziraphale countered, with his own indignation throwing up emotional walls. He knew there was a reason they'd never spoken about this before. But he took a moment to study Crowley closely. The demon was tense, like he was ready to leave at any moment. But his eyes. Without the glasses he didn't have that protective barrier to hide behind, and Aziraphale saw the conflict and emotions swirling in the serpents yellow eyes. Sighing deeply, he decided to turn the other cheek. "Call me a fool. But you seemed… different. Not at all like I was told to expect if I should happen to encounter a demon."

"So they warned you?" Crowley asked, letting his face melt into a cheeky grin. He was actually grateful that Aziraphale moved the conversation along, and followed suit in pretending that little outburst hadn't happened. "On my end they didn't really know  _ what _ was going on. Just said get up there and cause some trouble." It was only as the words left his mouth that he got a sense of deja vu, those weren't the words that he'd said all the millennia ago were they? Surely not. 

"Well obviously, you are a demon. That's what you do." Aziraphale smiled fondly, having a much better memory it seemed than the demon when it came to their first real conversation. It was after all, the thing that started their relationship to begin with. The single event that had led to them becoming aware of the others existence, and becoming curious enough to talk to eachother. "Besides. If I remember correctly, you leaned into the cover almost before I offered it." The angel pointed out, bringing this back to a more casual chat.

"Well. Like you said. No idea what the stuff was." Crowley smiled, leaning back in his chair and finally relaxing enough to drink the glass of scotch that had been forgotten in his hand. It put things back into perspective for him. Aziraphale, right from the start, hadn't acted like the Angels Crowley could no longer remember. He'd been different from the start. "And you giving away a flaming sword? Well... You seemed interesting enough to keep an eye on."

"And you." The angel threw the compliment back at the demon, with an affectionate grin. "You laughed when you said you might have done the  _ right _ thing. Not very demon like at all. I was worried sick and you thought it was funny."

"I _still_ think it's funny. Six thousand years on and we still have no idea. Whatever game god is playing, they're keeping us on our toes, that's for sure." Crowley laughed, shaking his head at the joke that they would never know the punchline too. 

"To the garden?" Aziraphale offered, raising his glasses to toast to their first meeting.

The demon raised his scotch, leaning forward to clink glasses with the angel. "To old friends." He added with a grin.


End file.
